


A Dinosaur Named Steve

by james



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, because what other kind is there, dinosaur transformation of the temporary and non-angsty kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 00:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: Clint isn't prepared to find out that Captain America has been turned into a dinosaur.  Who would be? Except Tony, apparently.  Luckily it all ends with tacos.





	A Dinosaur Named Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of kinda set in Avengers Assemble canon, given that I have not seen any eps, just read some of the graphic novels. Skimmed. I don't think canon really matters.
> 
> Fulfills square R3 - Tonystarkbingo2018, a still from the cartoon with Tony and Clint facing a Tyrannosaurus Rex. In the cartoon it is not Steve. I have taken liberties. I know. We are all shocked.

Clint didn't move, because Tony had said _don't run_ and Clint was willing to be terrified enough to admit he might not have been able to run even if he wanted. Well. He wanted to run, very much.

Tyrannosaurus Rexes apparently had that effect on him. Who knew? Who would _want_ to know that kind of thing, anyway, Clint wanted to ask – from the safety of anywhere else but here. The giant dinosaur was staring at them, not making any threatening moves other than _existing_.

It was really, really big.

“Is Hulk, like, anywhere close by?” Clint asked, not wanting to look away from the giant, scary dinosaur to see if a giant green rage monster was available to come to their rescue in case Tony was wrong.

“I suppose I could call him and ask,” Tony said, and he sounded way too relaxed. Maybe...maybe Clint was hallucinating and this wasn't real. Oh, god, please let him be drugged and hallucinating.

“Steve, could you please calm down?” Tony called out, and Clint didn't feel at all better when the giant dinosaur with the really big teeth blinked and made a gesture that looked like a sigh.

Clint stared. The T-rex stared back at him, grinning a horrible, toothy grin before leaning down and moving its head forward and very gently head-butting Tony. He was wearing his armor, thank god, but his face mask was up and no, Clint was drugged. He was very definitely drugged because now Tony was head-scritching the dinosaur like it was a giant naked kitten.

“You're scaring Clint,” Tony chastised, and the dinosaur gave Clint a toothy grin. And winked.

At him.

Its eyes were the same color as Steve's.

Clint did not move a muscle as the dinosaur _flopped_ onto its side, keeping its head near Tony's hand and bumping him when he stopped scratching for a moment.

“Please tell me that is not Captain America. He has not been turned into a dinosaur.” There were so many jokes he should have been able to make, except for how Clint was still waiting to be chomped or stomped or eaten or breathed on. Did Tyrannosaur Rexes have poisonous breath? Clint had no idea. Had they even learned about dinosaurs in school. Was that a thing _anybody_ knew?

He volunteered to go find out, maybe from a few hundred miles away. How fast could these things run?

The dinosaur was still letting Tony scratch its head, and was moving itself around to get Tony's fingers in new spots. Tony was just... scratching him. 

“Didn't they decide that dinosaurs had feathers?” Nat asked. Clint took a very slow step, then slid sideways behind her. She gave him a very unimpressed look, but who cared. Dinosaur.

Tony rolled his eyes at them, then began using both hands to scratch at the dinosaur's scaly skin. “He's not a real dinosaur,” he said, like it should have been obvious even to regular, non-genius people.

“Duh,” Nat said. “He's Captain America.” Her tone said that she didn't believe a word of it and it made Tony roll his eyes again.

“Do none of you read the briefing packets? Am I the only one who does the homework? No wonder Phil says he likes me best.” Tony shoved the dinosaur's head away from him, like one might do to an overly-gigantic playful cat. The dinosaur pouted at him.

Holy shit. Was that Steve?

Clint didn't ask, because he was still hoping for “hallucination.” 

In a long-suffering tone that Clint heard from Tony all the damn time, Tony said, “Doctor Demented, or whoever, turned Steve into what he thinks of as a dinosaur. Clearly Doctor Dumb-dumb hasn't been keeping up with the latest journals.” Tony sounded more disgusted by that failure, than the fact his boyfriend was -- possibly -- a large, featherless dinosaur demanding head-scritches and making puppy-eyes at him.

Well, that part was normal, at least, so maybe it wasn't a surprise that Tony was unfazed by it.

“So, uh.” Clint shifted to keep Nat in-between himself and maybe-Steve, maybe-strange dinosaur as the dinosaur aimed one large eyeball in Clint's direction. Was he thinking about whose turn it had been to do the dishes and how Clint hadn't actually done them in a few days?

Why did they keep assigning him dish duty anyway, Clint wondered. He never did them for at least a week or two and Tony just bought new dishes.

“We know how to turn him back? Should we be panicking?” Clint asked.

Nat looked over her shoulder at him, and that look of disdain was totally not new. Tony sighed. “Yes, of course we know how to turn him back. Why else would I be fondling him in public instead of going after the asshole who did this?”

“Steve hates when you grope him in public,” Nat observed.

“When your hands are below the neck at least,” Clint added, which technically Tony's hands hadn't really done, if only because dinosaur-Steve's neck was a lot longer than normal.

Dinosaur-Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony, who looked immediately cute and innocent, which was a look that nobody fell for so Clint wondered why he bothered.

“You asked for it,” Tony pointed out. “Who kept shoving his giant head against my hand and glaring when I stopped scratching?”

“Are we sure Doctor Demon didn't turn him into a half-cat, half-dinosaur?” Nat asked. “I only ask, because his tail is flipping around like he's about to pounce. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want him jumping on _me_ when he's like this.” 

“He's totally harmless,” Tony said, and dinosaur-Steve gave him a very offended look, rearing back and standing upright to his fullest height. Tony just gave him a look. “Right, because you're going to leap on us and crush us. Why don't you do something useful with those teeth and go grab the evil villain and encourage him to change you back? We have dinner reservations,” he added. “I need a least a couple of hours to get showered and dressed, unless you want a repeat of the Del Taco incident.”

“What Del Taco incident?” Clint asked, quietly. 

Nat glanced back at him. “Apparently some French restaurant in Frisco wouldn't let them in because they both smelled like mutated fish guts, and they had to eat at Del Taco.”

“They have good fries,” Clint pointed out. Like, why would tacos and fries be worse than French food?

“Ask Tony, if you want to listen to him rant about it,” she suggested. 

“Or we can leave clean-up to Steve, who is a giant dinosaur and thus clearly out-ranks us as superheros, and we can hit up a taco truck?” 

Nat glanced over at Steve and Tony, then nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
